Heptad
by Rantipole
Summary: There had only been seven times where Harry Potter found himself admiring his rival, Vulpecula Black. And for the daughter of Regulus Black, that wouldn't be an easy feat to accomplish. Only seven times they found themselves as equals, one time for each of their school years.


Vulpecula Black made her way down the hall, her friends Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini right at her sides. It only seemed appropriate to be in a tight nit group, considering Vulpecula wasn't on the Gryffindor's good list, as she and their golden boy weren't on the best of terms. It was foolish of them to place her uncle's deeds to his parents' deaths on her shoulders.

Daphne laced her arm through Vulpecula's. "Are you going to tell us exactly why you're happening to lead us to the Gryffindor common room?" She furrowed her dramatic brown brows. Her blonde curls bounced down her back, tamed into a thick braid, decorated with glass trinkets similar to a Norse goddess. Her forest green eyes were steady as she gazed at her friend, as if searching for the answer on her face.

Vulpecula smirked. She tipped her head back, causing her own fiery red braid to sway around her hips. Her grey eyes shone in the torchlight, the color of mercury shifting to a closer hue of white. She cocked an arched brow at Daphne. "Revenge, of course."

"Revenge?" Blaise grinned sharply. His dark almond eyes had a chilling look to them, a wolf stare that practically screamed: _You might think you're bad, but I'm by far worse._

Vulpecula hummed. "Those Lions believe that they can ridicule me so easily without any punishment. With everyone currently at the Quidditch game, we have our chance."

"But how are we going to get in?"

She merely grinned mischievously.

When they reached the portrait, she couldn't help but be disgusted. Inside the elaborate aureate frame was the oil painting of a busty woman in a Grecian white chiton, gossiping with a stick of a woman - Violet Tillyman, if she remembered correctly - with dark curls tucked into a blue witch's hat and matching robes. As they walked up, Vulpecula amused herself by counting the gleaming black buttons that lined up the robes. _One, two, three, four..._

She was still recoiling inside, of course. She could never understand a magical who forced themselves in those kind of states. Magic was most powerful in a healthy body, all the more easier to use.

_...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..._

The Fat Lady caught sight of them and giggled slightly. She fixed her already pristine crown of laurel leaves and grapes and smiled her thin, red-slicked mouth. "Password?" she asked in her loud, singing voice. Vulpecula almost sighed with relief when she didn't recognize them as Slytherites; they had changed out of their school robes. She subconsciously ran her sweaty palms down her cream and gold-trimmed day robes. At least, what with they were going to do, she wouldn't be able to pin the blame on Slytherin House.

_...thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five._

_"Veni, vidi, vici," _she stated clearly.

The portrait swung open.

"Latin?" Daphne muttered, a small smiled twitching at the corners of her pink lips.

"I'm more concerned for the meaning of it," Blaise mumbled back, looking incredulously at the vivid shades of crimson and gold overtaking the entire common room. _"I came, I saw, I conquered."_

"Quoted by Julius Caesar in a letter sent to the Roman Senate around 46 BC," Vulpecula rattled off, memorizing the line from one of her Uncle Ignatius' stories. She winced and covered her eyes with an arm when she caught sight of the obnoxious coloring. She always had a flair for dramatics; she could blame Grandmother Walburga for that. "Straight after achieving victory in his short war against Pharnaces II of Pontus."

"Sometimes I wonder why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw," Daphne mused.

Blaise snorted. "There's enough students for it to be crowded, not to mention they gained most of the Mudbloods. Entwhistle, Turpin, MacDougal. At least they have a right amount of purebloods, too; Li, Cornfoot, Boot, Goldstein."

Vulpecula grinned crookedly. She tapped her wand - rowan, dragon heartstring, twelve inches - against every piece of furnishing, and the color dripped away until it was left with a stunning emerald green. Daphne's eyes lit up at the sight. She started to dance around, leaving silver in her wake. Blaise caught on with a short laugh and transfigured every lion he saw into a snake.

Vulpecula swiped her wand across a blank stretch of wall, and an image formed in the silver stones.

"A calling card, then." Daphne laughed a full-hearted laugh, throwing her head back. The glass trinkets clinked together in a musical harmony.

Vulpecula sang under her breath as she worked on the picture. She had heard the Weasley twins sing it after the Sorting, and had managed to figure out the lyrics were from a Muggle movie about talking lions. She now knew the meaning to it, and, despite being a pure-blood Slytherite, found it rather entertaining at the moment.

_"Nants ingonyama bagithi baba_  
_Sithi uhhmm ingonyama."_

_"There comes a lion," _Daphne sang. She looked sheepish at the look her friends sent her. _"Oh yes, it's a lion."_

Vulpecula rolled her eyes, a smile playing at her mouth. She finished off the the portrait, which gained the affection of the Slytherites. It was simple; a dark fox with fur like chocolate pranced along the wall, a crown of laurel leaves atop its head. The fox itself would obviously be Vulpecula, the coloring was Blaise's doing, and the laurel leaves Daphne.

She put up spells so it wouldn't be so easy to take down the portrait. When she was done with that, the niece of Padfoot the Marauder stepped back and tested it. Words in silver curled across the wall in a bold cursive: _Siyo Nqoba._

_We're going to conquer._

The Weasley twins were going to regret singing the Muggle song.

* * *

Harry Potter couldn't help but admire his somewhat rival.

Fred and George were dramatically crying in shame, arms thrown around each other and bowing down the the fox that danced mockingly around the wall. Oh, Harry knew it was Vulpecula and her friends. Of course, he knew.

McGonagall had brought in Dumbledore when she hadn't been able to take down the enchantment herself. Every time they tried, the fox grew in size and sung a line of the song in The Lion King. He found it strange, since the movie was about lions, until he remembered the meaning of the line. He chuckled at the irony, causing some of the Gryffindors to look at him as if he were insane. He thought about the Fat Lady's password and matched it with the lyrics.

Well played, Black. Well played.


End file.
